


smolder

by Ealasaid



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Drabble Sequence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28678827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealasaid/pseuds/Ealasaid
Summary: Two friends before, during, and after the Reaping.[Sketches of a Hunger Games AU where Will is Katniss, Joe is Gale, and Tom is Peeta.]
Relationships: Joseph Blake & William Schofield
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	smolder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yonderlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yonderlight/gifts), [writeyourownstory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourownstory/gifts).



> inspiration provided by yonderlight, who brainstormed this with me back in August and _ruined my fucking life over it_

Beyond District 12's fence, it is beautiful. The sky is the same blue as it is in the District, but the sun just seems a little brighter.

"Reaping Day is coming up," Joe says quietly.

Will glances over at his friend. Joe is sitting hunched in on himself despite the respectable brace of rabbits on the grass next to him, looking out over the lake. At 19, he is too old to be Reaped. 

"Worried about me, are you?" Will asks dryly, to cover his own surge of anxiety. This is his last year of being eligible for the Reaping and it would be just his luck to be so close to safety when his own name is finally drawn.

Joe snorts automatically and punches him in the shoulder. "As if," he says immediately. "You'd slaughter them. They wouldn't stand a chance against you."

He falls silent after that, though. It isn't like Joe to be so quiet. Will nudges him with an elbow, a sign that he is still listening.

Joe blows out a breath. "It's Tom," he admits, reluctantly. "I know he's only got two more years, but -- what if they pull his name? I can't take his place."

That hits. Will has two younger sisters -- much younger. Ellie is the oldest and she is still six years younger than he is; this is the first year she will be in the drawing. It is the only year he and she will be eligible at the same time.

Will does not like to think about it. He understands why it weighs on Joe so heavily.

He covers Joe's hand with his own. "That won't happen," Will says instead of any of that when Joe looks at him. He falls back on practicality. "None of you have had to take tesserae. He'll be fine."

Joe nods, and swallows, and looks away, nodding again. "Of course," he says. "Of course."

~ * ~

"Mary Schofield," the Escort reads from the scrap of paper. Will's blood turns to ice. 

It is like it is a dream. "I volunteer," he hears as if it comes from far away. His hand is raised. He moves forward as if he is floating. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Joe watches him as Will gets on the stage, stricken. Will knows without a single word that Joe regrets nothing more in his life right at this moment so much as confiding in Will only a few days ago. From the horror in Joe's eyes, he knows that Joe will forever blame himself; as though, by speaking his fears aloud, he has cursed Will.

_ It's not your fault, _ he tries to tell his friend, staring back at him. The Escort natters on like a buzzing fly.  _ I forgive you -- it's not your fault. _

"Tom Blake!" the Escort calls next.

Joe turns white and sways. His mother chokes on a sob next to him. 

Will stares at the Escort and then looks out over the gathered teenagers as the crowd parts and his best friend's little brother steps forward. 16-year-old Tom Blake is pale and his movements are jerky, but determination settles in his shoulders and he steps forward with more confidence after the first shock. 

He does not look at Will, not once.

~ * ~

Three minutes is both far too long and far too short -- Will is reeling. His father hugs him; his mother cries on his shoulder; Winnie clings to his legs and Ellie hangs back, tearful with guilt. He takes a moment to hold her tightly and promise it is not her fault that her name was drawn.

Joe comes to the Justice Building after Will's parents and his sisters are shooed away. He has probably just been in to see Tom because he cannot speak. He grips Will by the shoulders and shakes him a little, trying and failing not to cry. 

"It's not your fault," Will tells him, too, because it isn't. 

Joe shakes his head sharply. "I can't -- I can't even tell you--" he gets out, but no more. He sucks in a huge breath and shakes his head. 

\--Because he can't, Will realises. Joe can't tell Will he hopes that Will wins, not when it would mean Tom's death. 

A minute passes in charged silence. 

"I have no right to ask," Joe says suddenly, harshly. He wipes his face. The lines of it are those of grief, but his jaw is set. "I have no right, but--"

Will swallows down his hurt. "I know," he says. He pulls a smile from somewhere, though it must be ghastly given Joe's flinch. "I will do my best to -- to keep an eye on him."

Joe covers his face with his hands. "If you can't," he says to the floor, "then you come home, you hear?"

Will watches Joe go when the Peacekeepers force him to leave and desperately tries to think of nothing at all.


End file.
